Expression
by Galad Estel
Summary: 'My first memory was the darkness. I was not afraid of it. None of us were then. It was the closest thing we had to womb, as we had no mother...' Melkor relates the beginnings of his existence and what moved him in his journeys as the Lord of Darkness. Set during Ainulindalë. One-shot. Melkor's POV.


My first memory was the darkness. I was not afraid of it. None of us were then. It was the closest thing we had to a womb, as we had no mother. My first thoughts came in questions. What am I? What am I doing here? What is my purpose? There was no before, though I tried thinking back. There were no memories then, nothing to cage or define me. I was a blank in the blackness of the universe.

I had no idea I could see, because there was nothing _to see_. The first sense I remember was sound. The voice of Eru, the One, called to me. He was my father, my creator. I knew this because he called me 'child.' It was the first word I heard, and yet immediately I understood it. I do not know how.

'Child,' he said. 'Children. You are here because I wanted you to be. You are the creation of my thought, and I love you.'

Love is such a cold word. It is abstract and remote. But nothing was concrete then. We were formless spirits in a shapeless void. I believed every word he said. I wanted to be like him. He was my father. I was supposed to want that.

Child meant I was his. Children meant the others were his too. I could not see the others, but I could sense them. Their feelings mingled with mine. I was upset that they were. I wanted Father to myself.

'You must not be selfish,' Eru said, reading my thought. 'You will come to like the others. Here is your brother: You were split from the same thought.'

Another spirit touched mine, but I could not see why we were more alike than the others. This spirit was eager to please, obedient, and not as curious as I. Oh, he wanted to know about life, but he had already found his purpose – to serve Eru in anyway he could. I resented him for this and comforted myself with the thought that my purpose would be harder to find but more interesting. There had to be more to life than subservience.

Noise was the first thing we were taught. I had to make noise with 'my brother.' First it was just words or humming, but then there was music. I was enthralled. Never had I heard something so beautiful, and _I_ was making it. My brother was thrilled as well, and for a time, we were happy together, playing off each other's notes, singing in harmony.

'You have progressed so much,' Eru told us. 'You must wait for the others to catch up with you, and then I will put you in a larger chorus and teach you more complex music.'

I was impatient to learn more, but I was forced to wait because of the slowness of the others. There was no time in the void, but there was still waiting. We did not record days, weeks, years, or centuries, but from one event to another there was distance, uncounted time as it were, or unreal time to make us used to the coming world we knew nothing of then.

My brother did not mind waiting. He practiced the old music, delighting in the sound. I liked it too, but I wanted more. I was becoming aware of sight. When Eru was with us sometimes we would see a glow around him. At first, I thought it was a delusion or an offshoot of sound. The more I studied it though, the more convinced I was that it was its own phenomenon, and I wondered if I could make light. When I talked to my brother about it, he said that yes, there was light. Eru had explained it to him.

'Why didn't he tell me?' I said, suddenly angry. I had never felt anger before. It was empowering, like high notes. 'I have as much right to know as you.'

'You never asked,' my brother said. 'I am sure he would have told you if you had asked. There are other senses as well, like touch and smell. We cannot touch as we have no bodies, and everything smells the same here, but later, we will experience those things.'

His voice was so calming that it was hard to stay angry, which irritated me. I wanted to explore the emotion, be completely enveloped in it. It was new. If Eru would not teach me new things, I would learn them on my own. I went in search for the light, but I could not find it. All was black in the void. I was spending less and less time with my brother.

Eru seemed to notice this and told us that the others were ready to continue. Now there were eight of us together. Listening to each of the new voices, I was startled by the sheer loveliness of one. I was wordless. I had no way to express how beautiful I found her, nothing to compare it with. Metaphors cannot exist in a void.

'You voice,' I told her, 'is more beautiful than mine and my brother's together. It is lovelier than Eru's.'

'You cannot say that,' she said quickly.

'Why not?' I asked.

She would not answer me. I had meant to compliment her, but she was shocked. I wondered why. Eru would understand. I only wanted her to like me. Eru had said that I would like the others, and now I liked one, but she did not feel the same. We sang together, and it was always wonderful, but she did not say much to me. Instead, she talked with my brother.

My first pangs of jealousy in finding I was not the only child could not compare with the pain I felt now. Then I had hoped that I would find love among the others; now, I knew I never would. She spoke so soft to him. Later, I would know her words held starlight.

'I am pleased with you, my creation,' Eru said, after another waiting. 'Your music is my joy. And now, you have come to a point where together you can make a Great Music.'

'But how?' I asked. 'We have not all practiced with each other yet.'

'Yes,' said Eru. 'But if you use the music I have given you, it will fit in the larger theme. You are pieces of my mind, and I have kindled each of you with the Flame Imperishable. When you perform together, you will become one, a complete mind. Your music will fulfill my work.'

Thoughts trembled through me. I was only part of someone. The music I had been taught was not mine. Never would it be mine. It was Eru's. Everything was Eru's: the light and the sound. I had nothing of my own. I was empty. He had tricked us. I had thought I had owned my voice. That the sounds I made were at least partly my creation, but, no, they were all his.

Whatever happened next would be his too. This theme. But I would have part of it. I wanted my self to be heard – not just the sound that my father had given me. I would have my own music. I had no fears then, nothing to lose. Everything was his. I was but a thrall, and I could fathom nothing worse. I knew nothing of death. We were deathless in the dark.

When we sang I sang a while with the others the music I had been taught, but as we went along, I added or dropped notes. My changes increased radically until my music was altogether different than Eru's. Those around me were faltering or changing their music to adapt to mine. One started to weep, but I did not pity her. She was weak if she would not control her own destiny.

The theme created shapes and currents. There was water in the music and also light, stone, and growing things. So many new things I had never seen. I reached out and changed them. I made water into snow and ice, created desserts from grassy plains. Eru turned to me. He was quite visible now, a radiant figure. He smiled, and my spirit was crushed. He raised his hands. A new theme started.

My music was blended between Eru's two themes, so that it was no longer mine. The ice and the heat remained, but they were to serve Eru's purposes. The music was splendid and raging. I fought against the new theme, charging forth with violent notes, but they always succumbed to his. His music overwhelmed me, and for the first time, I felt fear and shame. Eru had taken my rebellion and made it serve him, and I could do nothing but fall crumbling to his feet and worship him, wrath hidden for now. When I looked up his face was terrible. His words shook my mind.

'Mighty are the Ainur,' he said, 'and you, Melkor, the mightiest among them, but that you and all the Ainur may know, that I am your creator, those things that you have sung, I will show you what your music has shaped. You, Melkor, will see that no theme may be played that does not have its first source in me, nor can any alter my music besides me, and he who tries shall still be my instrument in the making of things more wonderful than he could have imagined.'

Before us was Arda. The world Eru had created for his children, the Children of Ilúvatar, Elves and Men. The old children would be forgotten. I looked at my brother. Like Eru, he shone and smiled. He had been the one to lead the second theme, the one who had trodden me down. I felt such a betrayal, though I had never loved him, however hard I had tried. He had taken my father's love, my power, my freedom, my pride, and the first love I have never had. Lights and stars will never be mine. I am lord of darkness.


End file.
